


There's a Reaper in my closet, Wrex!

by DefaultJane



Category: Mass Effect, shiara - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Family Fluff, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefaultJane/pseuds/DefaultJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surely you can leave Shepard in charge of the little blue child for one night, what could possibly happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a Reaper in my closet, Wrex!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something kinda silly that rattled around in my head as I was waiting for my cat at the vet's office... decided to write it out to make more room in my head for other nonsense.

Shepard couldn’t sleep alone very well these days. When, or if, she finally managed to fall asleep, she was usually woken up shortly after by nightmares. Most of the time it was the same one that had been recurring since before the war five years ago; running in the woods, trying to catch and save the boy. Only nowadays, the dream varied in some ways. Sometimes when she’d finally catch up to him, he’d turn into a husk leaving her no other choice but to kill him. Sometimes she froze and was overrun by a horde of them. But by far the worst version of the nightmares were the ones in which she had to stand by powerlessly as her loved ones and friends were eaten alive by husks... or got devoured by reaperfied threshermaws.

It didn’t take a genius and hours of therapy to interpret her dreams or where they stemmed from. It was just her subconscious deciding it would be fun to mash together the most horrendous things she’d experienced in her life, and combine those with her fear of losing her loved ones. She knew that, she knew they were just dreams, but they did disturb her. Especially when she was alone.

Sometimes Shepard wondered if Liara did something to help her sleep, something other than just be there that was. She’d denied it when Shepard had asked, but she wasn’t sure if she believed Liara. Then again, why would she lie about it. Either way, the fact that Shepard couldn’t sleep without her remained.

Liara was on tour with Javik, promoting the book they’d spent the past five years writing together. Shepard had been surprised by the fact that he’d actually agreed to take the time for writing the book, doing something that didn’t require holding an assault rifle didn’t seem like something he’d be interested in. But of course, this was the first time Javik had a chance to just... sit back and not fight. Shepard couldn’t even imagine what peace must’ve felt like for someone who had been born and raised in the middle of a galactic war. She also suspected he’d grown to secretly enjoy his philosophical discussions with Liara, the long talks about his culture, helping Liara rewrite entire libraries of wrongly interpreted information about the Protheans. Not that he’d ever admit to enjoying it.

While Shepard was happy that the two of them had found a way to see eye to eye and work together, she didn’t enjoy the solitude it left her with. She couldn’t sleep, and when she couldn’t sleep, she spent too much time thinking... and overthinking in return tended to lead to depression.

Shepard opened her notes and began going through her lesson plans. When the Alliance brass had offered her a position as an instructor, she had accepted, somewhat reluctantly so. She knew she wouldn’t be returning to active duty, not after the injuries she’d sustained. She’d kept the scars and the injuries as reminders, and to honor those who hadn’t been as lucky as her, those who hadn’t walked away from the war alive. Or, as it was in her case, limped away after spending over a year recovering and going through extensive physical therapy. But even then, what would a one-eyed marine with a bum leg, and no shooting arm do in the field? Give out orders perhaps, but mostly she’d just be getting herself killed.

Being an instructor was better than retiring completely. This way she could do at least something useful for the Alliance, for the kids joining, for Earth. When the legendary Shepard gave a lesson, everyone listened. Also, it could be kind of fun; she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of seeing the shocked and downright horrified looks on the recruits’ faces when they realized they weren’t going to be grabbing assault rifles and running out to the shooting range with Shepard, no. Instead, they sat in a class room, listening to the legendary Shepard give them a lesson in geometry and explain the mathematics of troop formations.

Sometimes the kids tried laughing it off, saying something along the lines of “Come on, this is the military, we don’t need math”, thinking Shepard was playing a prank on them. That was when she usually took a moment to inquire a recruit how they intended to deliver a precise artillery strike without knowing how to use trigonometry to calculate trajectories and angles, and the class room fell rather silent. Being a marine meant more than being able to perform pull-ups and fire a weapon, not a lot of people seemed to realize that.

Shepard closed her notes and leaned back in her chair as the corner of her mouth rose into a tiny smile when she heard footsteps rushing down the stairs.

“Shiloh, it’s past your bed time, you should be asleep,” she scolded the little blue child who ran up to her.

“There’s a monster in my closet!” the tiny Asari breathed, her deep green eyes wide in mock horror. Shepard knew this was the part where she should’ve assured the child there were no monsters, and even if there were, they didn’t spend their time hanging out in little girls’ closets... but where’d be the fun in that?

“Oh no, what was it? How big was it?” Shepard gasped dramatically, deciding to play along.

“I don’t know, I didn’t see!”

“Did you close the closet door?”

“No, I ran!”

“Aaah! It could be anywhere in the house! What do we do?” Shepard wailed in exaggerated horror.

“We need to find it! Come here!” Shiloh ordered, took Shepard’s hand and pulled her over to the armor locker. Shepard followed dutifully and opened the locker, took out her helmet, the chestplate and a pair of gauntlets. She tightened the gauntlets on Shiloh’s arms (they went almost all the way up to her shoulders) and with Shiloh’s assistance, strapped the chestplate over herself loosely before heading into the kitchen. She rummaged through the drawers and finally got out a rolling pin and a colander. She put the helmet on Shiloh and handed the rolling pin to her before proceeding to put the colander over her own head to use as a helmet.

“You ready?” she asked and Shiloh nodded, the movement causing the helmet to slide down over her eyes. Shepard chuckled silently and knelt down to readjust it.

“You lead, I’ll follow,” she then said and Shiloh began to slowly lead them toward her bedroom upstairs. They checked the closet first, and as was to be expected, it turned out to be empty. They spent the next twenty minutes sneaking around the house, hunting for the monster that had escaped the closet. When they returned to the living room after the third round through the house, Shepard slumped onto the couch.

“What now, boss?” she inquired and Shiloh pondered on it for a while.

“Secure the perimeter!” she then proclaimed, shaking the rolling pin in her hand, and Shepard had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Oh yes, one could definitely tell Shiloh was Shepard’s daughter.

After blocking the entrance to the living room with furniture, Shepard and Shiloh took the couch cushions and used them to build a fortress. Shiloh crawled under the coffee table and decided that would be their head quarters. Agreeing, Shepard blocked the sides of the coffee table with cushions, and finally draped a blanket over the space between the couch and the coffee table to close off the gap.

Once safely under the table, Shiloh decided to call uncle Urdnot for backup.

“There’s a Reaper in my closet, Wrex!” Shiloh began the moment she was patched through to him. He looked a bit confused at first, but caught on when he saw Shepard gesturing in the background.

“Doesn’t your father have any guns?” Wrex inquired.

“I’m not allowed to touch them,” Shiloh shook her head.

“Not even when there’s a Reaper in your closet? Remind me to bring you a shotgun the next time I visit, maybe a nice miniature Graal spike thrower, hah-haa,” he chuckled as Shepard frantically waved her arm and repeatedly mouthed “No, no, no!” in the background. Wrex then promised to send in Grunt and the Aralakh company if the Reaper refused to leave Shiloh’s closet peacefully. That seemed to be enough to calm Shiloh’s nerves, and she settled to lie down on the cushion under the table.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, Shepard,” the Krogan chuckled.

“So long, Wrex,” Shepard smiled and ended the call.

 

* * *

 

“Goddess, what happened in here?” Liara gasped when she’d finally managed to get past the barricade of furniture and entered the living room. Shepard sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, leaning back, asleep, the colander still crookedly resting on her head. Shiloh too was asleep and tucked in Shepard’s lap, the blanket pooled on the floor around the two of them.

“Did you know there was a Reaper in Shiloh’s closet?” Shepard asked quietly, her eye still closed, but her mind fully aware.

“Oh, was there?” Liara smiled and went to sit next to her. Shepard raised her arm and put it around Liara’s shoulders, pulling the Asari close and turning to nuzzle into her neck.

“We had to call Wrex for backup. He promised to give Shiloh a shotgun.”

“Shepard!”

“Don’t scold _me_ , you’re the one who left us alone in here with Reapers in the closets!”

“I leave you two alone for a day and suddenly there are Reapers in the closets... What am I supposed to do with you?” Liara chuckled, resting her chin against the top of Shepard’s head.

“How about not leave for starters?”

“The older you get, the clingier you get.”

“And the older you get, the deeper shade of blue you get,” Shepard muttered, grinning.

“Will you still love me when I’m a thousand years old, and purple?”

“Of course! Will you love me when I’m a hundred and fifty, and gray?” Shepard asked back, and Liara laughed softly.

“Of course,” she whispered and kissed Shepard’s temple gently. They stayed still like that for a moment, taking a minute to enjoy the comfortable silence between them, before Liara slowly broke it.

“If she really is afraid of monsters in her closet, we are going to have to address the issue seriously,” she said and Shepard shook her head.

“Nah, she was kidding.”

“If you’re sure...” Liara mumbled, and lightly ran her fingers across Shiloh’s cheek.

“I am, don’t worry so much. Besides, I’m pretty sure it was just a one time thing brought on by sugar and caffeine. Do you have any idea how much sugar that child puts in her coffee?”

“Shepard!”

“T’soni!”

The Asari sighed deeply, shaking her head slowly. She didn’t think she’d ever learn to read Shepard well enough to be able to tell for sure when she was joking and when she was not. That was saying something considering the many, many times she’d shared her entire being with Shepard.

“Or maybe she just missed you as much as I did,” Shepard smiled, turning to kiss Liara’s lips softly. She shifted, slowly running her fingers along the back of Liara’s neck, and was about to deepen the kiss when Liara pulled back and quirked an eyebrow.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m telling you right now, I’m sitting here thinking about it.”

“No, you’re going to put the furniture back to its rightful place, then we’ll get something to eat and take Shiloh to school.”

“Can’t you just use your biotics to move the furniture?” Shepard requested, giving Liara the best puppy dog-look she knew how. Unfortunately for Shepard, Liara had already grown immune to that look... about seventy percent of the time.

“No.”

“But you’re such a strong biotic and...”

“Flattery won’t turn me into your slave,” Liara chuckled and began to get up.

“Is there any way I could possibly bribe you then instead?”

“You are incorrigible. Furniture, now,” Liara ordered and picked Shiloh into her arms from Shepard’s lap.

“Aye-aye,” the redhead saluted dutifully and got to work, unable to keep herself from laughing out loud when she heard Shiloh sleepily mutter, “Shotgun”. Uncle Urdnot would certainly be proud.


End file.
